Tabula Rasa
by anonfanficaccount
Summary: Parallel moments from Rey and Kylo's childhoods, showing the similarities between them. Rey is isolated and raises herself on Jakku. Kylo's feelings of abandonment are manipulated with he meets a strange man with a tempting offer.


It had rained last night. It happened once or twice a year, giving hope to the lonely scattered plants that clung to life in the depths of the barren Jakku desert.

Rey had been running for hours. Even after she'd realized no-one cared enough to come after her. The heat, usually tolerable, burnt into her exposed flesh. She could feel it melting her skin, burning it until it blistered. The impossibly bright sun obscured her vision, blinding her, depriving her of her most vital sense. She was helpless. But she kept running.

She didn't care if she died. It might be better.

In the distance, a dark object loomed. She couldn't make it out. She got closer: legs emerged, A head, a torso. Metallic and huge.

A remnant.

* * *

Ben buried his head in his knees. The darkness of his hiding-hole pressed comfortingly around him. If he'd looked up, he'd be able to see their feet.

They were fighting. It didn't need to be said; they couldn't be in the same room without fighting. This time it was about him. They didn't know he could hear. His mother wanted to send him away. She was scared of him, scared of what he might become.

He stared at a pulsating light on the dash in front of him. His dad had told him what that light was about, only a few minutes ago, but he couldn't remember now.

* * *

Rey clambered onto the roof of her imperial beast. The rain last night left her a gift in a deep crevice in the beast's side. Life. It was rapidly evaporating in the midday sun.

Trembling, she cupped her hands, filled them, and brought them to her lips, precious life trickling through her fingers as she did so. The hardened flakes of skin on her cracked lips softened as the wetness on the pads of her thumbs dampened them.

She drank with a thirst she'd never known. She drank until she was full. She drank until the rusty water sloshed around in her empty stomach. She drank until she threw it up, then she drank some more. It tasted like iron and sand and desperation. It was the best thing she'd ever tasted.

Finally satiated, she reclined and surveyed her new kingdom. She was further into the desert than she'd ever gone, but she knew exactly where she was. No-one ever came out this far.

Her short brutal life could end here, if she wanted it to.

* * *

Ben was ripped from his mother's arms. She'd cried. He'd begged her not to send him away, promised to be good. He didn't know what he'd done wrong.

He didn't know why he scared his mother. Sometimes he got angry and shouted and cried. He wished he could take it back. He wished he could tell her he loved her, so he wouldn't send him away.

It was too late. She'd decided. He was alone, curled up on a bunk. His father was flying him to an unknown place with unknown people. He had to be saved.

For just a moment, Ben was more powerful than them. He could take this ship somewhere far away where he'd never have to see them again. He could take this ship home, and make them feel the pain that he felt now. He could show them his mother was right, he was something to fear.

The moment passed. He was a scared child crying alone on a bunk.

* * *

Rey wasn't a child anymore. She felt like one. She still didn't know how to live, but she wasn't a child anymore.

She called her imperial beast home. She'd made it nice. Her kingdom provided nourishment in the form of parts, scavenged and traded.

She spoke to someone a few times a week. Just a 'hi' to someone on the street, or a few words to the woman who sold meat when she could afford it, or Plutt when she had the courage to haggle.

It should have been enough. Her kingdom and her life. It was more than most people here had.

Most of the time it was enough. When she was scavenging, or cooking, or sweeping away the corrosive sand, it was enough. More than that, she was content.

Sometimes when she'd hidden her face in her resistance helmet, or at night when she couldn't sleep, she longed for something else. Something more.

It seemed like too much to ask when she had all of this. She never allowed herself to ask for it. She never left in case they came back.

* * *

Ben wasn't a child anymore. He loomed over everyone, intimidating with just his presence. He preferred it that way.

The scarred man had stopped to ask for directions. Ben told him, and the man left. At the last minute he stopped. Turned, considered. Invited Ben to join him.

It was only later Ben wondered why the man had been going to a cantina. He hadn't ordered a drink, and he wasn't meeting anyone. In the moment, in the dark, Ben told the man his deepest, most secret thoughts. He wanted more, was capable of more than his master could offer him. He didn't want to deny himself anything.

The man told him he could offer that. The man made it seem like Ben's idea to agree.

* * *

Rey had left her kingdom. She'd waited until dusk, after the scorching heat, before the crippling cold.

She could have told herself she didn't know why she'd done it, told herself it was a random whim. That wasn't true. She was lonely. She craved interaction. Something to show herself she still existed.

She brought all her portions with her. Portions were better than currency here.

On the border of the town, she hesitated. She didn't know where to go. She spotted three of four shadowy figures in the dark. She followed them, wrapping shadow around herself like a protective blanket.

One of them called out. She'd gotten too close. They'd spotted her. She smiled, and tried to speak. Now that the moment had come, she couldn't remember any words.

The one closest to her saw her discomfort. He reached out and touched her elbow. She recoiled. She didn't remember the last time she'd been touched. The immediacy of it terrified her.

His face turned to anger. He demanded answers, but she couldn't give them. He did touch her again. His friends touched her too.

Bruised and battered, deprived of her portions, she dragged herself to a doorway and curled in a ball. She vowed never to be that weak again.

She did go back. She sat in cantinas, she gradually remembered how to interact with other people. She made acquaintances. She became the kind of person who could make you laugh. She became comfortable with touching.

She never forgot the lessons she'd learned. She never brought all her portions. She never let herself get caught with nowhere to stay. She traded for a staff weapon – she never let herself be defenseless again.

* * *

The scarred man offered Kylo something he'd never had before. Something dark. Ben knew it was wrong.

Something else about the scarred man was wrong. The flicker of greed when Kylo displayed his power.

Kylo felt his powers growing. Strength from the darkness, control from the light. He would have to choose – everything or nothing. For now he had both, and he didn't know which appealed to him more. He was seduced by the darkness and drawn to the light.

The choice was made for him. Overwhelming relief, and nagging regret.

Years passed. As the atrocities grew, so did the regret. Sometimes, like when he was a child, he'd get angry. An outburst of blind fury. Then came the calm, serenity. At night, when the demands of his position allowed, he'd feel the regret.

The legacy of his bloodline gave Kylo strength. The strength he needed to continue his work.

* * *

Like she did most nights, Rey watched the sunset. Helmet on, bracing to survive tomorrow.

She'd learned it wasn't supposed to be like this. Talking to others, she'd learned not to be grateful for what she had, because she had nothing. She was alone, eking out survival, one or two day's work from starvation.

She tried to imagine a life other than this. A life with a proper house, and food enough to satisfy the hunger pangs in her stomach. A life where her parents came back for her.

She couldn't see it. Not really. She could almost taste it sometimes. She could never picture herself there, or happy.

The desert scorched during the day, but at night frost built up on the window panes. She barricaded herself in her imperial beast, wrapped herself in all the clothes she owned and covered herself with her two ragged blankets. She waited for the morning, hoping tonight would be no worse than the last.

She knew that if she left Jakku she'd find work. Maybe even good work. She could fix anything, good with a staff weapon, the best pilot she knew.

She was waiting. She had no memory of her parents, only the stories she told herself when she couldn't sleep. She had a feeling they'd told her they'd come back. They had to come back. Otherwise there was no-one that loved her.

Jakku was brutal, solitary, unforgiving, unkind. She didn't know how to exist anywhere else: Jakku was the only home she'd ever known.

This was her kingdom, and she could never leave it.

* * *

A/N: I'm not convinced by the style of the prose, it's very different to how I usually write, and I'm not sure if it works. Reviews are how I learn, so if you've got critiques, I'd love to hear your thoughts.


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